Redbox. You have lured me in for the last time with promises of your $1 rentals and oh-so-shiny red vending stations. In the past I have fallen prey to your 24hr accessibility and even more alluring, OrderOnlineAheadOfThe6pmFridayMovieScramble which had previously kept me coming back for more. From here on out, your craftily-manufactured, invisible cases will be lost in some other suckers couch cushions, only to be found at a time when their precious children (reminiscent of none-other-than Sherlock Holmes) go fishing for lost change and Barbie shoes. I, now a step ahead of those poor fellows, know insult will be added to injury when they later open their credit card statement to the shocking & exorbitant charges which, clearly, only an offense as great as misplacing something the size of a dessert plate for a couple weeks could warrant.
Please consider this my Dear John Letter. We’re through.